My Willing Distraction
by SourCandyX
Summary: They fight and scream, yet it always ends the same. Misplaced clothing and bruised egos. Post DH. Rated M for adult themes/language etc.
1. Prologue

**This little idea was stuck in my head. Draco/Hermione. Set post DH. Personally I felt there was something under the skin of these two. There is no smoke without fire or so they say... wishful thinking? Perhaps. But if we are wishing for things then I dibs Tom Felton. Muhahaha... Enjoy. Xo. **

* * *

><p><strong>x<strong>

She was never his. Not at all. Even when their bodies collided in a sweet, sweaty mess of skin. They were separate. Always had been and always will be.

Yet there was something that pulled them together.

A force stronger than gravity. Harder to resist than breathing. Something they had to do, it was unavoidable. They'd find each other. Always.

...

They'd scream and curse and wish each other dead. Words cutting like knives as each syllable formed on their lips. Every word bringing them closer, until they could taste each other's hate. Stinging their skin.

Then it would happen. The words would cease, and the clothes would fall.

Limbs would cave and melt together, moving as one. Elated cries filled the empty space where words had failed them moments ago.

Eyes would meet in an unrelenting fierceness. Neither one of them backing down, it had gone too far. It always did. They wouldn't be the ones to say stop. Instead they'd ride out the storm together, clashing against each other, fighting for control.

...

When it was over they simply parted ways. Until the next intrusion. Silent in their shame they'd walk away, caught in a strange paradox of guilt and satisfaction.

He'd walk away fixing his tie, smoothing his hair. An unsettling pit in his stomach. Yet that devilish smirk painted on his lips.

She'd walk away, twirling her hair between her fingers. Caught in a memory of his touch. Hating herself for doing so.

They were each other's distraction from the chaos that had been their lives. The years hadn't been kind to anyone. It had been a royally fucked up mess. None had come out unscathed. Each tainted by past events.

That was their excuse. They each used each other.

...

Fuck and forget. That's how it was suppose to be.

...

If only it was that simple.

For them it never would be. Not at all.

**x**

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Penny for your thoughts? A shiny one at that. Xo. **


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1.

...

She was not he same girl as before. His war had changed all that. No longer did the same old face stare back at her in the mirror. The young, fresh-faced girl she had known was long gone. She had matured in every way possible.

Flattening down her skirt, Hermione slipped quietly out from the hotel suite. Cringing at the squeak of the door she cursed under her breath. It was long past four in the morning. She never was able to keep track of time when she was with him. It withered into insignificance, much like common sense.

Fixing the last strap on her heels she set off down the corridor, praying to Merlin no one noticed her. Her pace quickened with each moment she thought about what had just happened, again. Draco Malfoy.

She wasn't shy in publicly showing her disdain for him, after everything that had happened no one questioned her motives. It was clear. He was an arrogant arsehole. He had bore the dark mark only years previous. He had represented everything she was taught to despise.

Ignorance, greed, evil.

The Gryffindor in her used to want to see the best in people, no matter how far gone they may have appeared. She had tried. Once upon a time.

Once she was clear of the hotel, Hermione let out a sigh of relief. Rubbing her tired eyes she looked around the quiet streets before apparating back home. Finally glancing at her grandfather clock she noticed the time. A few months ago she would have cared, but not anymore. She merely shrugged her shoulders lightly and went about undressing. Kicking off her heels again she fell back against her bed, inhaling the scent of home.

Snapping her eyes open she recoiled at the intertwined scent of him, mixing in with her own. It stuck to her skin. She could feel it, like a heavy shawl she couldn't shrug loose. Sighing loudly she sat upright, unbuttoning her blouse and allowing her skirt to pool at her feet. Grabbing a towel she made her way though to the bathroom.

It was one thing to have his scent stinging her nostrils in his presence, but the lingering aftertaste of him in her apartment unsettled her more that she'd like.

Pulling back the shower curtain she flipped the switch, letting the water run she rolled her neck, waiting for it's pleasing warmth. Using her favourite bath crème of Lilly and vanilla she breathed deeply, allowing it to overpower his scent. Resting her head against the cool tiles she let her mind wander over everything.

.

Sleep.

Lunch with Luna.

Report due for Monday.

Ron.

.

Not another mention of him. That's how she could live with herself. As far as the world knew, they barely spoke. They never ran in the same circles, except the odd Ministry occasion. Even then they would never been seen within twenty feet. That's how it had to be, it suited them both fine. The act of contempt towards each other was never really an act at all.

The hate was there. It simply could take a new form.

Stepping out of the shower she caught a glimpse of herself in the wall mirror.

"Fuck"

She muttered, running her fingers over a newly formed bruise slowly appearing on her thighs. Opening her towel wider she watched various other red marks dusted over her skin. Spotting a particular spot she felt a surge of heat brewing at the pit in her stomach. She knew how she had gotten that mark. She had screamed out as he'd given it to her. In return she'd clawed at his chest, writhing fiercely, until it was over.

Shaking her head softly she covered herself back up, leaving the mirror behind.

Settling in her bed she turned on her side, watching the night sky slowly brightening into a dawn. With a flick of her wand the curtains snapped closed. She needed the darkness.

...

* * *

><p>...<p>

Draco ran a hand through his hair, letting out a long breath as he outstretched himself on the large double bed. It was always so quiet after Granger left. It was a part of their time together that he looked forward to. The calm after the storm. After the deed was done there was nothing else to be said. They parted ways and it was over.

Until the next time.

Rolling over Draco picked up his watch; straining his eyes he took note of the time. It had lasted longer than usual. Smirking to himself he threw the object back in place.

Glancing around the room he got up, walking over the window he peered outside. The street was quiet, not even a drunken lout semi conscious on the pavement. Rolling his eyes he noticed dawn's light rearing its head. Placing the drapes back in place he strode into the bathroom. Not bothering with the light switch.

Sighing out he leaned one handed against the wall, whilst pulling his boxers lower. Clicking his neck to the left he noticed how heavy his body felt. He was used to all nighters but this time, the old girl seemed more fervent. He admired a hate-fuck as much as the next man, and Granger didn't disappoint.

Succumbing to a yawn Draco left the bathroom and climbed under the sheets. Resting his hands behind his head he thought about the week's deliberations. Business was always demanding, there was never really a slow day. There was always some old _acquaintance_ of his Father's wanting something or other. Draco let out a breath. He could tell them all to go to hell. He wanted nothing to do with that man. He struggled to refer to him as his Father. He was just an unwelcome invasion into his life, nothing more.

Tightened his fists he groaned outward, sliding down further into the mattress. Staring up at the ceiling he glanced briefly down at his forearm. It had faded in the years that passed, however his eyes still saw it. It stared back at him, an ugly reminder of his past.

Closing his eyes he thought about the day ahead. He thought about the paperwork that needed his approval. He thought about the new assistant in the department below him. She would be easy.

Slowly the thoughts slowed until he felt himself slipping under. Letting the darkness consume him.

...

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><p>...<p>

Hermione awoke with a start. Crookshanks sat idly by on the pillow next to her.

"Good morning"

She noted quietly, stroking his soft fur. He let out a soft mew of content before jumping off the bed and disappearing through her bedroom door. It was breakfast time.

"Who needs an alarm clock?"

Hermione muttered to herself, slipping herself out from under her quilt. A quick glance in her vanity mirror proved useful, as she was able to smooth down a few stray hairs.

A quick shower later and she was ready to face the world. Flicking through the clothes in her wardrobe she finally stopped at her favourite charcoal pencil skirt. Scanning her eyes over it she checked for imperfections, satisfying herself she placed it neatly against her bed as she searched for her cream blouse.

Raking her fingers over every fabric she found it.

Smiling to herself she slipped it over her head, letting out her hair as she did so. She dressed quickly, grabbing her handbag as she exited her bedroom.

Walking into her kitchen she made a quick breakfast, glancing at the clock. She wasn't meeting Luna until twelve.

Sighing softly she eyed the letter sitting in the middle of her table. It would stay there another day, what was the harm?

Finishing her tea, Hermione gave herself another once over before leaving her apartment. There were slight bags underneath her eyes; a simple incantation soon fixed that.

_Tegere_

A small flash of white and it was no longer an issue. Pursing her lips she took another breath. Here we go.

...

* * *

><p>...<p>

Draco's day had begun hours ago. He never was one for sleep. He could never settle long enough.

Walking through his office he was welcomed by the usual wave of smiles and nods. People were still wary of him, it had been a few years since the war. Yet people still seemed to be on edge, never wishing to rub him the wrong way. It suited Draco perfectly. Most of them weren't worth his time.

"Good morning Mr Malfoy"

Glancing up from his desk his watched the shy assistant smile nervously before him.

"Here are the forms you requested"

Her hands shook slightly as she passed them to him. Draco couldn't help but stifle a smirk. He loved the effect he could have.

He gave a simple nod, dismissing her with his hand. She nodded, quickly scurrying out of his office like she was chasing the snitch.

His eyes glanced over each paper intently; there was no room for error. Mistakes were not tolerated. Least of all his.

Once he was satisfied he leant back in his chair, regarding the other employees. All of them hurrying about, each caught up in their own world.

Picking up his quill he began signing off his signature, repetitive flicks of his wrist page after page. Business was business.

...

* * *

><p>...<p>

As usual Luna was late, Hermione sat patiently at their usual table. Knowing to order her drink for her, she slowly sipped away at her own. Tapping her foot softly against the wooden frame of the table she noticed a tuft of ginger hair a few tables over.

Rolling her eyes she craned her neck around, sighing a breath of relief. It wasn't him. She'd really hate to add stalking to the list of things that annoyed her. It was already too bloody long.

"Hermione"

A soft voice sounded from behind her, jumping slightly she stood to embrace the woman before her.

"Luna. How are you?"

She spoke into her length of blonde hair. A smile broke out on her face as her hairs tickled her nose, just like always.

"I'm very well." Luna's hand outstretched, tucking a stray curl behind Hermione's ear.

"You look tired. Are you sleeping? I have a great potion for that. Only minor side effects…"

Her voice danced into Hermione's ears. It really was a pleasure seeing Luna. She always managed to lighten the mood. Luna's eyes watched the girl before her. That dreamy look of optimism gracing her features. Hermione smiled, squeezing her hand.

"I'm fine. I promise".

As anticipated the lunch passed much too quickly. They laughed and reminisced of their old school days. Digging up far to many embarrassing memories for Hermione's liking. She truly loved their monthly lunches; it was a time when she could just relax. Luna never made her feel uncomfortable, never pressured her to do anything. To say something she didn't want to. Luna was blissful in simple conversations; it was a trait that Hermione wished she could bottle.

Another embrace and they parted ways for another few weeks. Luna waved softly as she sent a small rose petal floating over to Hermione's hand. It was a tradition of theirs, a parting gift until they next saw each other. When the flower of choice wilted it was time to meet again. To replenish their friendship, as it were.

At first Hermione had questioned Luna's token of choice. Yet it had quickly grown on her, she enjoyed having a vase of flowers brightening up her apartment every month.

Tucking the petal in her bag she slipped away down the street, dodging the people walking by. There was somewhere she needed to be.

...

* * *

><p><strong>AN: My first venture in HP. Hope I'm doing it justice thus far, fingers crossed. I don't want _Crucio_'s hurled this way. Wow I really typed that. It's official. I am a huge geek. **

**_*Tegere: To Cover. _**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3. 

The day quickly passed into night and Hermione was left sitting alone in her lounge watching the clock hands tick by. Letting out a languid yawn she stretched out her arms, reclining further on her worn sofa. Feeling the lids of her eyes lowering her head glanced over at her bedroom door. Sighing she ignored it, remaining perfectly still against the leather.

A thunderous knock at her front door shook her from her impending slumber. Groaning outward she moved to stand, once again a rapturous noise rattled her front door.

Her stomach twisted slightly as she approached it. It was late. Who would be calling at this hour? Hermione's mind raced through all the worst possible outcomes. Death was highest on her list. A momentary feeling over nausea washed over her, her legs faltering temporarily.

Taking a deep breath she turned the handle and opened her door wide.

In all the years she had known him she never thought relief would be one of the emotions she felt in his presence. The worry she had felt only seconds ago had now changed into something she could deal with. Anger.

"What in Godric's name are you doing here?" she scolded. Her eyes frantically scanning around his slender frame.

His frame remained still as he watched her. Scoffing again she folded her arms, raising her eyebrow. A traditional Hermione Granger stance.

"Save the dirty talk Granger, I'm in no mood for it" he sneered, barging past her without a hesitation. Turning sharply on her heel she followed him, slamming her door behind her. He smelt of Firewhiskey. A lot of it.

How charming. A drunken Malfoy.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

His day had gone from bad to worse. Letters hadn't been sent and contracts and clients had been lost. He remembered the look on his assistants face as he had told him, the panic and nervousness he displayed. Draco had enjoyed that part, naturally. Yet even the thrill of watching someone he frankly despised squirm, it didn't stop the fact that it was his neck on the line.

When those below him bollocked up, it was Draco who paid the price.

He had sat in his office chair and listened to it all, a barrage of insults and disappointments. After the first fifteen minutes he simply tuned out. He had plenty years experience as a boy. Lucius had made sure of that.

The verbal assault he could handle, yet there was one thing that he just couldn't stand. The comparison to his father. That was the thing that caught his attention. Made his heart pound viciously in his chest, made his fist clench in anticipation. Set his jaw in place and left his eyes burning with a fury.

The Crucio curse flew out of his mouth with such ease, it simply rolled off his tongue. He watched for a moment as the man before him writhed on the floor in pain, his limbs silently contorting against his body.

Walking over the man he bent over him, seeing the terror and anguish engraved in his features.

"I am _not_ my father" Draco spat out through gritted teeth, grabbing the man up by his robes. He watched the panic in the man's eyes as he shuddered at his touch. Taking a final look over the pathetic mess of a wizard below him he let his robe slip from his fingers. The man fell back against the floor of his office, softly whimpering to himself.

Pacing around the room Draco ran his hands through his hair, fixing it into place. Ignoring the man still coming to himself on his carpet, Draco poured himself a glass of twenty year old Firewhisky. It would be his first of many. Necking back the first glass he began working on another.

"You should probably go now" he took another sip. "People will talk". He finished, eyeing the man below him.

The next few hours seemed to drone on, Draco just sat in his office chair, staring out of his window. Watching the people on the streets below passing by, carrying out their mundane lives. He pitied them really.

His mind thought about many things. How his life had changed over a matter of years, it made him think about what he really wanted. If he really, truly wanted anything. Or anyone. Shaking his head he blamed his misguided train of though on the alcohol. It was the safer conclusion for everyone.

Until of course, he ended up at her front door.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"You shouldn't be here" Hermione repeated for the third time. Sadly she felt her words were going unnoticed.

"Are you listening to me?" she demanded, shaking his shoulder. Draco's eyes darted down to where she had touched him.

Hermione noticed and hastily removed her hand, back to its placement on her hip.

Draco stood firm in front of her; he enjoyed watching her when she was angry. Her face contorted into the most interesting expressions. But he wasn't here for that. He wasn't here for her. He was here for him. He was here for some cold comfort in the arms of a woman who hated him. Perfectly logical.

* * *

><p>He had broken their rule. He had come to her home, intoxicated or not he never should have come here. She knew it, as did he. A part of Hermione knew for him to break this unspoken rule it must have been serious. Draco was always one for keeping secrets. He would never been so foolish to put a one as great as this in jeopardy without a reason. Snapping herself back into the moment she reigned in her anger, she needed it to think straight. He shouldn't be here. That was final.<p>

"You need to leave. Right now" she didn't move to touch him again. He was already far too close.

She watched him roll his eyes, before his hand rubbed his temples.

"Do you ever shut up?" he muttered.

Hermione snorted.

"In all the years we've known each other and you can't answer that yourself. You're drunk, go home".

Turning on her heel she moved away from him, only to be caught by his hand. Draco pulled her arm sharply back towards him.

"There's the fire I wanted" he sneered darkly.

Hermione pulled against his grasp. Watching the dark intent in his eyes.

"You'll regret it, I can promise you that". She spoke slowly.

Ignoring her warning Draco pushed himself against her, her back finding contact against her wall.

"So much talk Granger…" he purred against her hair.

Hermione felt his heartbeat moving against her chest, his hand still had a firm grip on her arm. It was digging in sharply, it would leave another mark. She was sure of it.

"…I could make you scream" the tip of his finger traced down her neckline, leaving a tingle of electricity behind him. Coming back to her senses Hermione pushed out at him, letting him stumble back a few feet and falling against the table.

She felt her heart beating quickly, as her eyes narrowed at the man before her. A devilish smirk was painted on his face as he watched her.

"Get out" she barked.

Scoffing to himself Draco raised his hands slightly. Even if this was all the interaction he was getting tonight, he had enjoyed it.

Steadying himself he realised how out of sync his body was feeling, he would deal with the hangover tomorrow.

Turning round he spotted a white envelope sitting at the centre of the table, something about it seemed familiar. The handwriting looked so recognizable.

Draco's eyes widened.

"Well, well what do we have here Miss Granger? A soppy love letter from Weasel." He fingered the letter, looking it over.

"I thought you dumped the ginger sod years ago" he teased harshly.

When she didn't respond Draco looked up at her.

"Jealous?"

She knew it was a stupid thing to say. But Hermione didn't care. Plus it just sort of happened. She watched his face process her words, she watched as his face changed into the cold façade she was accustomed to.

He strode toward her at a fast pace; standing her ground she faced him.

"Go home Draco".

His eyes roamed over her face. He took a moment before speaking, a thick silence surrounded them, the sound of heavy breath was all that was audible.

"Be seeing you,"

Draco snarled darkly, before thick black smoke swirled before her face as he left her standing alone. Yet again.

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><p><strong>AN: Apologies with the gap in updating. **

**Would love to hear what you think of the story so far. Cheers. **

**xo. **


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

.

The night's events left Hermione extremely uncomfortable. She had never really seen him act that way before. There was the odd occasion at social events where she had let herself go in his presence, somewhat due to a lethal mixture of alcohol and loneliness. Yet she rarely ever saw alcohol have an effect on him. He was a social drinker no doubt, and quite obviously a private one too.

He was well known for holding his drink, quite famously so. No hair ever went out of place; no movement went uncalculated. Yet tonight he had acted out of his normalcy. He had broken their rule. He had acted impulsively and broken their rule.

Hermione sighed, he was a complete idiot. An idiot that she had spent far too much time thinking about.

Taking a final look at her clock she went to bed. She needed to be up again in six hours. Oh joy.

* * *

><p>.<p>

He slammed his fists into anything he could reach as he landed back home. Yelling outward the sound reverberated around the four walls, piercing through his ears again.

Resting against the wall, Draco leant his head upon the coolness of the stonewall.

Breathing deeply he closed his eyes. Trying to douse the rising flames burning within his chest.

The image of her face flashed through his brain and he sent items from his dresser drawer crashing to the ground. Gripping the hard wood he sent it flying over to the other side of his room, spilling its contents everywhere.

Running a hand through his hair he stepped over the broken shards, they crunched and groaned as he did so. Making his way over to his bed he removed his jacket, allowing it to fall at his feet. Loosening his tie, he began unbuttoning his shirt as he walked.

Pulling sharply on his tie he scrunched it into a ball and let it join the mess on his floor.

Lying back against his bed his head began to ache. The sick taste of stale whiskey was burning his throat. Retching, he coughed and spluttered as he tried to control his breathing.

A warm sensation pooled in his hand, unclenching his fist he watched as small shards of glass had cut his hands and wrists. Allowing blood to escape down his arms.

Draco sat for a moment, transfixed. Lifting his arms he watched as the old blood dried and new blood took its place.

In the darkness it appeared quite black.

His mind skipped back on itself, flooding his brain with images of his past. Images he wished to forget.

He was just a boy really. That's what his Mother had said, that's how she made it better. How she forgave herself. He didn't know any better, it was forced upon him.

Draco knew different. Yes, he was young and naïve. Still, he allowed it to continue far longer that he should.

He swallowed harshly.

His gaze lifted from his hands to his forearm, just as it did the night before, and the night before that. A searing pain flashed through his skin, a reminder of what was.

Closing his eyes he tried to shut everything out. He needed everything to stop spinning.

This was _her_ fault. He shouldn't have been alone now. But he was, only a bitter taste on his lips and bad memories for company.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Sunlight pierced through her curtains, warming her cheeks. Smiling to herself she rolled over, avoiding a temporary blindness. Slowly Hermione opened her eyes, facing her door her chest tightened at the thought of last night.

Sitting up she stole her gaze away from the door, refusing to spend another moment on the subject.

It was a new day and there were tasks to be done.

Finishing her cup of tea Hermione stood from her table, barely glancing at the unopened letter still sat in its place. Placing her cup in the sink she grabbed her notebook, and retrieved her report from under yet another stack of papers.

As she should have guessed, taking one item toppled her neatly order tower.

"Bloody hell…" she muttered under her breath, desperately trying to resume some sort of order.

A sharp knock on her door startled her. Rolling her eyes she felt the same nervousness as she did before. Placing her papers back down she strode quickly over to the door, sharply turning the handle she pulled it back.

"Yes?" she enquired.

The face of an old woman looked back at her. Hermione softened.

"Mrs Burtle. How can I help you?" she smiled.

The older woman returned the smile, fixing her glasses.

"I was just checking you were alright dear. You see last night I thought I heard…" she paused.

Hermione could feel her heart in her mouth, swallowing she remained calm.

"Well what sounded like some sort of ruckus? You know dear, how much of a light sleeper my Finneus is…" she paused again, allowing her words to sink in. Mrs Burtle was not a woman of subtly.

"Of course, I do apologise. It won't happen again" Hermione added quickly, giving her best sincere expression. Glancing at her watch she licked her lips.

"I'm afraid I'll have to be going Isla. The Ministry doesn't like to be kept waiting" Hermione half joked.

Mrs Burtle nodded, her eyes already thinking of the rest of the day's errands. A quick goodbye and Hermione was left in peace.

However blunt and rude Mrs Burtle could be, she wasn't intrusive. She would say her piece and then leave. And on this morning, Hermione was grateful.

Another check of the time and a glance in the mirror and she was ready to go. Report in hand, Hermione apparated to the halls of the Ministry. Smiling at passers by she made her way through the halls. Ready to spend a few hours discussing why her chosen theory was correct and how people she had never met she fund her research.

Turning on her charm she stepped through the great doors.

Play your part Hermione, she reminded herself.

* * *

><p>.<p>

As predicted, the price Draco paid for a night of alcohol and self-loathing took effect. There was a pain in his head that felt as if it should be lying in two parts on the pillow beside him. Each minute movement felt like a thunderstorm destroying any remaining brain cells.

Groaning to himself he tried to sit up. Rubbing his head he felt too hot, his skin was on fire. Rolling his shoulders he tried to alleviate the burning sensation scolding his body.

Resting his head in his hands Draco steadied his thoughts, trying to make his legs work in unison.

_Enervate_

It took a moment before Draco felt the effect of the spell. Slowly but surely sparks of energy ignited through his body and down each limb. Opening his eyes wider he peered around the room, only now taking in the damage he'd done last night.

Swearing to himself, he threw his sheet off his already too warm body. Small parts of it had stuck against his skin, covered in a thin layer of sweat. Recoiling at the sensation, he searched for his shirt. It was nowhere to be found. Sighing again, he stood. Shielding his eyes from the morning's light glaring in from behind the curtains.

_Opscuro_

He muttered quickly, relaxing once again at the muted colour of his room.

It would be a long day.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Two weeks had passed since that night in her apartment. Hermione had pushed it to the back of her mind, she had work to do. Dwelling on him was never the answer.

Her report presentation had gone perfectly, just as expected. Everyone had commented on how brilliant she was and how they were intrigued at the theories and ideas she'd produced.

Hermione loved her work, loved creating new magics.

The whole subject had fascinated her even as a young girl back at Hogwarts. She would read all the texts she could get her hands on, even a few from the restricted section.

It was almost an addiction, the thirst for knowledge often rendered her socially unavailable. That was the start of decline with Ron.

She had loved him so much.

Just not enough.

When she told him he didn't understand, didn't understand how she couldn't make them work. He even cried. That unsettled her the most. By the time she ended it officially, Hermione was already over him. The sight of him in tears irritated her more than inspired sympathy.

Then that was that. No more Ron.

A letter was waiting for Hermione when she returned home. Closing the door behind her she eyed around the room, listening for any sign of intrusion. Feeling her wand in her pocket she let out a small breath of relief. When she heard nothing she stepped further inside, towards the letter.

The script of the letter looked terribly formal, it reeked of the Ministry. Flicking to the back Hermione thumbed it open, revealing a perfumed scented pearl white page.

Breathing in the musky scent Hermione read the letter.

_ ._

_Miss Hermione Granger,_

_Your presence is requested at the Annual Wilhelm Wexler Memorial ball…_

_ ._

Hermione skimmed down the page, secretly smiling to herself. It was a great honour to be asked to such an event. Wizards from all over the world came to celebrate the best and brightest of advances in the wizarding world.

Running her fingers over the page she re-read the words over and over again. Pinning the letter above her mirror, Hermione let out a glee filled squeal. She had done it. She was no longer just one of the Golden Trio; she had made it on her own. Singly recognised. Stepping out from underneath the Potter shadow.

The only thing now to decide was, what to wear.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5.

Hot breath brushed over her neck whilst experienced hands lifted her dress higher above her thighs. Her lips formed a perfect circle as he took her breath away from her. Closing her eyes she lifted her head higher, allowing his lips to travel around the base of her neck. Secret groans grew louder as Draco worked faster, picking up the pace as he drove them both harder against the wall.

Hermione's mind fluttered with all the thoughts she shouldn't. Opening her eyes once more she watched his hair slip from its place, covering over his eyes briefly before his own eyes found hers. A moment stood between them, before that smirk filled his expression and he took control again.

Hermione could feel her legs weakening with each new thrust, miniscule tingles of anticipation trembled through her body. Gripping her hands further into Draco's bare shoulders, she clenched her thighs together, savouring the feeling. She heard the low, coarse growl coming from his gritted teeth, Hermione smiled to her. Licking her lips she prepared for the end.

They had come in a hot mess of teeth and claws, writhing together, heartbeats pounding in their ears. Just as always she couldn't look him in the eyes after, Hermione simply flattened down her dress, covering her marked shoulders with a shawl. Twisting her hair through her fingers, she watched him pull his shirt back into place, eyeing the scarlet marks on his chest, rolling her eyes she let out a sigh.

...

It was all a blur how she had gotten here, the night had started as usual, a sea of faces all smiling and nodding towards her greeted her arrival. She had been shown her table, poured countless glasses of wine. She had listening to various speeches about the progresses made in the wizarding world, etcetera etcetera . About an hour into the evening she had found herself completely bored and alone, she admired these great wizards for their work, but largely they were pompous and arrogant.

Conversing with them was a chore more than anything, when she looked around her she saw a glimpse into her future. Frankly she felt empty. Her head had started swimming with the alcohol and dark thoughts of her future. She needed air. She needed to breathe. That's when she found herself not so alone on the balcony.

"Hello Draco"

She mused, keeping her eyes focused on the night's sky before her.

He kept his distance, a few feet behind her.

"This is quite an achievement for you Miss Granger, invited to the Wexler Ball. You must be very proud"

His words were filled with a heavy sarcasm that Hermione knew all to well.

A simple shrug of her shoulders expressed more than words could, she was tired and a little drunk, she didn't feel like a lengthy verbal foreplay tonight.

Turning around to face him, she regarded his appearance. He always looked good in a suit.

"Are you here to congratulate me Mr Malfoy? I didn't think you would speak to me after running our on me the other night"

Her brown eyes focused on his, watching intently for some response. She let a half smirk cover her lips as she waited for his answer.

Taking his first step closer Draco kept his face composed, letting his hand finger a loose curl from her cheek he leant in to her ear.

"I didn't come here to talk".

Then she felt it, the fire burning away in the pit of her stomach began to swell.

Wetting her bottom lip, Hermione turned her head closer to his, whispering heavily.

"Then do what you came here for".

...

Snapping back into the moment she saw eyes watching her, turning to look at him she tilted her head.

"Always a pleasure Mr Malfoy"

She sneered and she graced past him, when his hand shot out, catching her by the waist. Draco quickly pulled her tightly against him. He held her there for a few seconds, before extending his had towards the door handle. His fingers twisted it sharply, releasing it with ease. Hermione stayed ridged and quiet, waiting for something to happen.

"The pleasure is all mine, _Hermione_".

As quickly as he caught he her released her, stalking out of the room in great strides leaving her alone.

...

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Apologies on the short chapter and the great gap in updating - things having been so busy the last few months. **

**Thank-you to those who are still reading this story, I know it's been a while. **

**I just thought I'd update this little chapter, seeing as it kind of can stand on it's own, and seeing as it's the festive season I'd give you a little present. Haha. **

**XO. **


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